


A Commanding View

by China_Rose



Category: King Arthur (2004)
Genre: Fic, M/M, Slash, king arthur - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-17
Updated: 2013-06-17
Packaged: 2017-12-15 07:56:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,539
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/847153
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/China_Rose/pseuds/China_Rose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lancelot sees the world from a different perspective.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Commanding View

**A/N 1:** This story is a response to a challenge by Sarmatian Knight on the _Fallen Knights_ Forum to write a story addressing the following criteria:  
Do's: please use tacks/bridles somewhere in the story  
Dont's: romantic stuff  
Scene: I do not mind where / when you set the fic...

 **A/N 2:** Sarmatian Knight I hope this small fan fic is to your satisfaction. I have thoroughly enjoyed the challenge and as requested it is a NC-17 Arthur/Lancelot; tacks/bridles and their use are mentioned; there is absolutely no romance and the setting is…appropriate.

 **Beta:** Thanks again to my wonderful beta, Thoks. As always any residual mistakes are mine.

 **Comments and Reviews:** Always Welcome

 **Disclaimer:** Obviously they are not mine but they come over sometimes and play at my house, so please don’t get mad ‘cause they want to spend time with other kids.

********************

Arthur often sought solitude in the stable. There he could attend to his horse and think without interruption or argument. There in the quiet, surrounded by the heady scent of leather, he would work off pent up emotions as he washed down his horse and maintained his tack. There he would sit on a hay bale and polish emblems and stirrups, oil the leather of the saddle, and ensure everything worked perfectly from bridle to bit. There he felt close to God and there he would pray when the days had been hard and a sleepless night awaited him.

This was one of those days. The knights, no Lancelot, had harassed and argued with him about every move he made. How could he command when this man refused to obey? After all these years Lancelot still would not submit to his authority and today had been the last straw…

“Why do you always talk to your God and not to me?” asked Lancelot, as he emerged from the shadows of the stable.

Turning to face the one who contests his every breath, Arthur calmly replied, “My faith is what protects me, Lancelot. Why do you challenge this?”

“I don't like anything that puts a man on his knees.”

“That’s not what I’ve heard,” countered Arthur.

“You bastard!”

Arthur was prepared for the attack. As Lancelot surged towards him, Arthur stepped sideways, grabbed Lancelot’s arm and twisted it up behind the man’s back. Finally securing the enraged knight with an arm firmly placed across his throat.

Despite the ferocity of the moment, Arthur’s voice was cold and calculating. “I am tired of your complaints,” Arthur whispered into his ear. “Tired of your insolence and…”

Arthur felt the subtle change in the body pressed back against his. Heard the hitch in the breathing. Smelt the lust. Before Lancelot realised what was happening, Arthur had spun him around and forced him to his knees.

“I thought you should view the world from my perspective,” Arthur coolly explained, as he grabbed a fist full of Lancelot’s hair, pulled his head back and forced the man to look up to him. “A man sees things differently on his knees,” Arthur continued conversationally. “He _appreciates_ what he is given and he knows only too well what he may forfeit if his behaviour is not acceptable. Do you understand Lance?”

Lancelot nodded as best he could with his head held firm in Arthur’s sturdy grasp.

“You see Lancelot; you’re like a wild stallion that needs to be tamed,” Arthur remarked, as he stared at the man before him. “How do I do that Lance? How do I stop your endless questions and constant arguing? What do I have to do to get you to accept my authority?”

Arthur watched as Lancelot lowered his eyes. That was the signal, the moment when Arthur knew he had control.

“I think it is time for a lesson in obedience. Undo my leathers,” he snarled.

Lancelot complied without question or thought. With unsteady fingers, he unlaced Arthur’s riding breeches and he gasped as Arthur’s swollen cock sprang free from its confines.

“Touch it!” instructed Arthur.

…and Lancelot did. He encircled the hardened shaft with his fist, mentally measuring its girth and length. He pulled back the foreskin and ran his thumb over the smooth tip, spreading the glistening droplet over the flared head. His fingers grazed the vein on the underside of the silken length, while his other hand sought the heavy sacs still nestled in Arthur’s breeches. Lancelot pushed the breeches down enough to access Arthur’s balls and weighed each one in his palm, rolling it gently. Finally he grasped the shaft in a sturdy hand and began to languidly stroke the hardened flesh. Up and down. Up and down. Sliding his hand along the length twisting it at the top and fingering the slit, he then forced the foreskin over the head setting off jolts of passion which caused Arthur to buck in response.

As exhilarating as it was to watch Lancelot pleasure him, Arthur wanted more. More control _and_ more pleasure. Arthur discovered that dominating another was a powerful aphrodisiac indeed.

“Lick it!” Arthur ordered, his breathing even despite the intensity of the sensations running through him.

…and Lancelot obeyed. He held the cock with one hand, still pumping up and down but now his tongue darted out to taste the bitter seed that beaded at the tip. Each time the head was bared he lapped at the slit, as if greedy to taste more of Arthur’s essence. His tongue ran slowly along the length and back along the underside of the shaft, laving the heated organ. Once he had wetted the cock he blew on it causing Arthur to release a deep moan at the sensation. He repeated the motion again and again, licking, blowing, pumping. Arthur could feel the pressure mounting from deep inside as he clawed for mastery against overwhelming sensations.

“Suck it!” he commanded.

…and Lancelot complied. Arthur watched with satisfaction as his cock was slowly enveloped by Lancelot. Once more with a dual assault his hand pumping the length, while he sucked the head. He continually flicked his tongue over the slit as more and more juice poured forth. Lancelot then relaxed his throat and swallowed his leader’s cock to the root. Arthur couldn’t stifle the cry that burst forth as he felt his control slipping.

However, this was not a lesson in seduction. It was a lesson in control and Arthur wanted to be in control. In an effort to regain his composure, Arthur placed his hands either side of Lancelot’s head and began to thrust into the man’s mouth. All the while he kept haranguing him…

“Is this what you want Lancelot?” Arthur asked, as he pumped mercilessly into Lancelot’s moist heat. “Is it? To kneel before me as a loyal soldier and suck my cock dry?”

Arthur felt Lancelot shudder at the words and knew that was what he dreamed of but would never admit.

“You vex me Lance. Why is it so difficult for you to hand over power to another? Even the wild horse can be tamed Lancelot. Eventually they are harnessed and ridden. Is that what I have to do to you? Put reins on you, ride you hard and whip you with a crop before you acquiesce to my authority?”

But the time for coherent speech had passed, as Arthur let his body take control. With animalistic passion, he tightened his grip on Lancelot’s head and thrust again and again. His rhythm became wild and erratic. Finally all of Arthur’s frustrations burst forth as he shouted his release, spurting stream after stream of hot come done Lancelot’s throat.

The moment subsided and Arthur’s spent cock slipped from Lancelot’s mouth, while Arthur released his hold the knight’s head. There they stayed. Lancelot, eyes downcast, still kneeling and Arthur standing and very much in control. Finally Arthur whispered…

“Clean it!”

…and Lancelot yielded. He greedily licked at the last drops of essence that oozed from the tip of Arthur’s spent cock. He ran his tongue along the now flaccid shaft and cleaned away all traces of come before taking one last swipe at the head and releasing the foreskin to once again cover its treasure.

Arthur resumed his conversation, “You know Lance? I think you wanted that. You _needed_ that. You want someone to be in charge. To control you and relieve you of responsibility,” explained Arthur. “You challenge me because deep down you know I am the only one who can give you the release you desire.”

Lancelot neither spoke nor raised his eyes but his hand moved over the wet spot on his breeches, a silent acknowledgement of Arthur’s words.

Arthur stepped away from the kneeling man, tucked his cock back into his leathers and laced his breeches.

“Do not challenge my authority again Lancelot or there will be further consequences. And remember, we may sit at a round table but I _am_ the head of that table.”

As Arthur turned to walk away, Lancelot finally spoke.

“You would treat me no better than a horse,” spat Lancelot.

“Oh you’re wrong there Lance. You see, I at least rub my horse down after a hard ride.”

Without a further word, Arthur strode confidently from the stable.

The End  



End file.
